


Brit, Bartender and Bike

by MidnightMinx90



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Bartender - Freeform, Blow Jobs, M/M, Motorcycle Sex, club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 13:41:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightMinx90/pseuds/MidnightMinx90
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucy and Rebecca drags Shaun off to a nightclub. Desmond is a bartender there.<br/>As annoying as Desmond is, it turn out he's actually hot - after a few beers -, or that's what Shaun is trying as an excuse</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="http://writingsofprincessmidna.tumblr.com/post/44775423244/for-brit-bartender-and-bike">Inspired by these pictures</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Brit, Bartender and Bike

The music was loud, beating. The crowd gyrating, moving like they were one.  
Shaun Hastings sat by himself at a table, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. He was bored, utterly bored, and he could not comprehend why his ‘friends’ - he thought of the word with annoyance - had decided it was a good idea to bring him along.  
Why on Earth would he - a single man with better things to occupy his time with - go to a nightclub with two of his female friends - especially when he was quite certain said friends were dating but trying to hide it from him?

“No, thank you,” Shaun said when yet another tipsy girl came up to him to ask if he’d dance. The words sounded nice enough, and Shaun briefly wondered if she’d heard the annoyance in his words or not. Not that he cared though. He’d much rather sit alone like some loser than have a strange girl clinging drunkenly to him and jabber on and on.

When more than an hour had passed, Shaun was ready to go home. He put his stuff into his pockets and stalked off to the floor to see if he could find Becca and Lucy. He saw them briefly - and barely had time to register the fact that they were making out, meaning he was right - when a drink was thrust into his hand.  
Following the arm which had placed it in his hand, he saw one of the employees, smirking at him in a way that was a bit unnerving. Not that Shaun would admit to it though. 

“You’re welcome,” the man said. When Shaun didn’t say anything, he continued “What, no ‘thank you’? I just gave you a free drink, and you can’t even come down of your high horse to say a simple thanks?” The words themselves were ill-meaning, but the unknown man’s tone didn’t fit them. Instead it sounded like he, well, was worried for some unfathomable reason.  
It wasn’t the words, it was the tone that made Shaun mad. 

“Listen, _twat_ , I never asked for anything, and then you just thrust this into my hand. On top of that you somehow dare to sound like you’re worried?” The words were spoken calmly enough, but the tone left no room for mistaking his anger. “Not only that, but you expect me to thank you for it and just go on with my life? I don’t accept drinks from strangers, especially here when I can’t possibly know if you’ve spiked it with anything.”

The employee seemed quite taken aback by Shaun’s little speech and just looked at him dumbfounded.  
“Wait, what?” Shaun looked at him incredulously. Was the man really that stupid?  
“I said,” Shaun started out, saying each word slowly, “that I do not accept drinks from strangers.” Now the stranger glared at him. “Yeah, I got that, thanks. Didn’t mean you’d had to be rude though.”

That’s it, Shaun thought, this is the dumbest person I’ve ever met. Pissed off at this point, Shaun handed the drink back to the man, turned and was about to walk away to tell the girls he was leaving - and to get away from the annoying stranger - when said stranger had the nerve to place a hand on his shoulder and turned him back around.

“Dude, I’m sorry, k? I shouldn’t’ve said those things. It’s obvious you don’t need any help, so I’m not gonna use that as an apology.” The man took a deep breath, and held out his hand for Shaun to shake. “Name’s Desmond Miles and I’m a bartender here.” The words were accompanied by a self-assured smirk. Shaun sighed and accepted the hand.  
“Hello Mr. Miles, my name is Shaun and I’m an historian.”  
“Well then, Mr. Shaun, who’d you come here with? I’ve seen you sitting alone all the time, rejecting the ladies coming up to you.”  
“That’s none of your business, but I was just about to leave, so if you’ll excuse me…”  
“Okay, okay, you’re right. But listen, I’m getting off in half an hour. Care to take a drink with me? Oh right,” Desmond continued, “I almost forgot, you don’t accept drinks from strangers.” The last part was spoken with a smirk.

“Listen, I appreciate the offer, but I can’t; I drove here and both my friends are drunk. In any case, I only drink beer, and only the good kind.”  
“Suit yourself, ‘s your loss dude. At least come look at our beers and you can decide whether or not they’re the ‘good kind’. Deal?” Shaun sighed again.  
“Fine, okay, I might as well…”  
“You won’t regret it!” Desmond exclaimed and dragged Shaun after him across the floor before he could finish his sentence.

Once at the bar, Desmond put out all the various kinds of beer they had before Shaun, who looked at them all quickly, before deciding upon the only good kind they had; proper British beer. 

Although Desmond seemed to be quite dim-witted, he proved – after a while – to be a good conversation partner, and Shaun – though he’d never admit to this either – found pleasure in bantering and arguing with him. One beer turned into four, and when Shaun had ordered his fifth, Desmond’s shift was over. 

Though not drunk – just a little tipsy – Shaun somehow let Desmond talk him into coming out on the dance floor with him. The beat wasn’t really that up-beat, but a bit mellow. Shaun and Desmond quickly fell into a rhythm; Shaun with his bottle in his left hand, taking a swig every now and again and not paying attention the songs themselves, just the beat and rhythm.  
What Shaun failed to notice until the 4th song however, was that he was dancing with Desmond, not as in dancing-besides-Desmond, but as in dancing- _with_ -Desmond. Before he had time to react however, the music stopped for a moment, as some other employees started walking around, handing out glow sticks in various colours. 

Desmond accepted some, and quickly fastened them into circles, putting a couple around his own wrist before repeating the same procedure on Shaun’s.  
“Uhm, thanks?” Shaun wasn’t sure of what else there was to say and felt a bit uncomfortable in the situation; he never liked not knowing what to say. But that wasn’t the only thing that made him feel that way; when Desmond had briefly touched him, it had sent a spark running up his heart and down south, followed by an involuntarily shiver he hoped the other man hadn’t noticed. 

The music came back on again, and Shaun barely had the time to feel the relief before he started listening to the music. 

 

__

Late at night and all I can do  
Is walk these streets and think of you.  
Time goes by but not for me,  
So easy to preach, but hard to believe.  
I'm damned if I do  
And damned if I don't want you. 

There was something there, something in the way Desmond looked at him that was unnerving. 

__

To taste your lips, to touch your skin.  
Pull you close and drink you in.  
I should let you go but I don't know how.  
I'm no good for you and I'm nothing without.  
Yeah, I'm damned if I do,  
But damned if I don't want you. 

The way his eyes flickered to Shaun’s lips for a brief second, though still long enough for Shaun to notice it, even in the dim light, reminded Shaun of the way Lucy and Rebecca often looked at each other when they thought he didn’t notice.  
Not understanding quite what was going on between them – if something was – Shaun found himself reaching out to take Desmond’s hand in his, pulling him close so they could dance together. 

__

It's late at night. All I can do  
Is walk these streets and dream of you.  
Yeah, I'm damned if I don't,  
Damned if I do,  
But damned if I don't want you. 

I see your face through that window pane.  
My lips don't move as I scream your name.  
I want you, my love.  
I want you.  
Call my name without a sound.  
I am on my way.  
I want you, my love.

When the song ended, they just stood there, looking at each other. Both men were breathless, although the song and dance had been a calm one, and neither could explain exactly why that was.  
“Shaun, I…” was all Desmond had the time to say before Shaun pressed his lips against Desmond’s. Everything and everyone around them disappeared and it felt like they were the only ones left in the world. Shaun almost dropped his beer as he wound his arms around Desmond, deepening the kiss, oblivious to anything else but the body pressed firmly against his. 

Their third kiss ended, and reality came rushing back. Now out of breath for obvious reasons, Desmond leaned in and rested his forehead against Shaun’s, their lips separated by a mere inch. 

The next three songs were also slow ones, allowing Shaun and Desmond to continue slow-dancing and kissing. Though forgotten, Shaun still hung onto his bottle of beer, his unlit cigarette from earlier lost somewhere during in the night.  
After the third song finished, Shaun left his beer with Desmond and went to the bathroom. He was so warm from dancing and being close to Desmond that he had to undo the top three buttons of his shirt before returning.

Desmond looked him up and down, the smirk on his face clearly showing what he thought of the change; just the hint of pale, unmarked skin sent dark shadows chasing across his eyes.  
He handed Shaun his beer, along with a new cigarette and lit it for him.  
“You could’ve let me do it, ya know?” Desmond said, his voice rougher than earlier, as he pulled Shaun towards him by placing two fingers on his belt buckle and placed his other hand – with a glow stick – on his back.  
Shaun in turn wound his right arm around Desmond’s left, resting it on his shoulder as he used it to hold his cigarette, his beer in his left hand. 

Desmond tilted his head and looked at him in a way which spoke plainly of exactly what it was that he had in mind, pulling at Shaun’s buckle some more, bringing their groins even closer.  
Then _If I Had You_ by Adam Lambert started playing, the green lights flashing along to the beat of the music and the world of Shaun and Desmond narrowed in again. To them, to the beat of the music, to each other‘s hips and groins, to lips and roaming hands, to pants and moans.  
Neither was at fault for starting it; instinct had made both men gyrate at the word ‘strut’, and everything went downhill from there.

Neither had made any conscious decision to get out of there, but somehow they had ended up in the parking garage for the employees. They quickly figured leaving the place in their condition would not work, even though Desmond had only taken one sip of Shaun’s beer, as their condition had nothing to do with alcohol. Well, okay, not for Desmond – Shaun was a lost cause by now.

Before Shaun knew what was happening, he found himself pinned to a bike he hadn’t even noticed in the darkness of the garage. He had no idea what colour it was, but it felt sleek, built for speed and quite new. He didn’t give a fuck about it, and didn’t care who’s it was; all that mattered were Desmond’s hands on him, his sloppy, wet, open-mouth kisses and the sounds he was making.

But it wasn’t enough; Shaun wanted more, more, _more_ , and he couldn’t do so, pinned as he was.  
So he pushed Desmond away from him, grabbed him by his black shirt, turned them around and bent Desmond backwards so that he was lying on the seat of the bike, his head by the handlebars.  
By now, Shaun’s shirt was unbuttoned, his glasses askew and belt undone. Desmond however, was wearing too much, so Shaun unbuttoned his pants and dragged them down, barely past his hips. 

He had kept his eyes on Desmond’s as he had done so, so when he looked down he growled with pleasure and surprise.  
It turned out Desmond was going commando, and Shaun bent down, taking Desmond’s whole cock into his mouth at once to show his appreciation. 

Desmond sucked in a breath between clenched teeth and arched his back, and when Shaun started fucking _humming_ as he bobbed his head up and down, Desmond nearly lost it. He yelled out Shaun’s name, the sound echoing throughout the garage.  
Shaun let go of Desmond’s cock with a wet pop, and it was now his turn to smirk at the sound that left Desmond’s mouth out of disappointment. 

The sounds Desmond made were incredibly hot and Shaun felt even more turned on than he already was. Oh, how he wanted to tease Desmond into making even more of those glorious sounds, to drag them out of him, until he was breathless.  
But he didn’t have time for that, not now. _'Later'_ , he though, as he straddled the bike, placing himself between Desmond’s legs.  
Shaun started moving his hips slowly, teasingly against Desmond’s cock, earning himself some more of those delicious sounds. 

It wasn’t enough, so Shaun scooted back so he had barely enough space to unzip his own pants, freeing his own dick. He moved forward again, placing his hands behind Desmond’s back, lifting him up, bringing their cocks together.  
Looking down on Desmond, Shaun could have sworn he saw a blush on his face, and it only made him that much hotter than before. 

“You’re so bloody hot right now,” Shaun said, surprised at how raw his voice sounded as he slowly moved his cock against Desmond’s. Desmond turned his head away, looking a little embarrassed as his hands searched for something to hold on to, settling on parts of the engine. 

Shaun could feel the heat tightening in his stomach, knowing he was very close to release. He still needed that one last push to send him over the edge though.  
“Desmond,” he started, as his left hand reached down between them to hold their cocks together. “Look at me.” The words left no doubt that it was an order, not a request, and Desmond quickly obeyed. Shaun just had the chance to see dark shadows darken eyes almost black already, and he realized Desmond liked that kind of thing; he liked being dominated. 

“I’m going to let you come, since you’ve been so good, but not until I let you. Do you understand?” A weak nod was all he got in return, so he stopped moving, and repeated “I said; do you understand?”  
“Yes. I… I understand... Master."  
“Good boy. “ Shaun sped up his rhythm, allowing himself to get as close to release as possible, before he said “Come for me, pet.”

**“SHAUN!”** The way Desmond screamed his name was all he needed. Shaun followed mere seconds after Desmond, barely able to keep a stuttering rhythm as they rode out their orgasms together, their semen coating both their chests and bellies. 

When their breaths returned, Desmond managed to ask “Your place or mine?”  
“For this, we’ll take my place. Maybe we’ll do yours afterwards.”

They dressed hastily, put on Desmond’s helmets and jackets, and sped off into the New York night.  
If they spent the next hours keeping first Shaun’s then Desmond’s neighbours awake, they didn’t care.  
They had each other for now, and would find out what they were later.

But for now, this was enough.


End file.
